


Bittersweet In-Betweens

by bs13



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: Angst, Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 04:05:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bs13/pseuds/bs13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're supposed to be together," he mutters to her gravestone, rubbing his hand on the cold surface that starts getting wetter as the rain starts to pour. "We promised each other that. For better or for worse. But you're not here for the worse." (Ted/ Mother oneshot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet In-Betweens

**Author's Note:**

> First thing's first: I have never seen this show. I saw a few Youtube clips, but then I got draw in, and I basically read the whole show without watching it through episode recaps and Wikipedia and stuff. AND OH MY GOD THAT SERIES FINALE.
> 
> I...I can't. That finale...I hated it. I hated it so, so much. I did not want Tracy to die. And the fact that Ted was telling his kids that story after she died killed me. The whole time he wasn't talking about his love for the mother of his children, but a way to tell them he was in love with Robin? I don't hate the pairing Robin/Ted, but I thought that was shitty thing to do, writers of the show!
> 
> I just...I wanted them to mourn Tracy more. I've literally spent like a full hour writing and sobbing at my screeen because I wanted Tracy to live so bad. Seriously. I've never cried this much. My eyes have gotten teary during movies and stuff, but I've never full out cried. Well, today I did just that, and the tears are still coming.
> 
> So...disclaimer: I don't own How I Met Your Mother

The end is only the beginning.

He's heard that saying too many times. No, he's endured that saying too many times. He's tried of being told that it's going to be okay, that the end may seem bad, but that it's all going to work out in the end. Well, maybe he doesn't want there to be an end. Maybe he just wants her.

Or rather, maybe he just wants her back.

The day she died is too painful for him to remember. She knew she was getting worse and had called for him, so he had witness her end. He listened as her final words fell short. He felt her hand go limp in his own. He saw the life drain from her eyes.

And he couldn't even save her.

He tries to stay strong. He really, honestly does. But he can't. He remembers the way she would sing to their kids. He remembers the way she would squeeze his hand when he felt sad. He remembers their wedding, their first child, their life together. He remembers everything, and it won't let him move on.

His heart can't accept that she's gone, so his mind doesn't either.

The day of her funeral was overcast and dreary, marking the day as a bad one from the start. He remembers how wounded his voice was. He remembers how long he stood before her gravestone, crying. He remembers how his friends cried, and how they tried to tell him it would be okay. He remembers knowing it might never be.

He had found the one. The girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Someone who had driving gloves and knew all of his stories by heart. Someone who made awesome cookies and stole umbrellas. Someone who took Econ 305 and knew how to play bass. Someone who interrupted him before he even proposed to say yes. Someone who wasn't going to leave him at the altar, or marry his best friend, or just use him.

Then life rudely took her way.

He can't forget the way she told him about her illness. They had just been talking, and she had made a joke, and he had laughed, and then she had dropped the bomb. It was too late to save her, she had said somewhat somberly. He had been shocked, and she had been crying, and then they were embracing and he was promising that he'd be there, and that he wasn't going anywhere. Not then, not ever.

He remembers their first kiss whenever he takes walks. He remembers when he first heard her sing when he sees a ukelele. He remembers her in general when he sees a yellow umbrella. He remembers her in everything- the flowers that grow, the air during springtime, the happiness of everyone around him. He remembers her so much that her death hurts him beyond anything he could have imagined.

She's died just recently, and perhaps that's why it's hurting so bad- or so people tell him. Right now, he can't handle anything, and it's taking a toll on him. Lily is taking care of his kids- their kids- and he's left with the day to go see her.

As he walks, he tries not to see her in everything he passes, but of course, he does. He walks slower to try to sort out his thoughts, but he can't think, either. The only thing he can do is remember her and how she died just a month ago.

And cry, of course. He does a lot of that, too.

Right now he's crying. He wipes at his eyes, he sniffles and sobs, but he can't quit crying as he walks up to her gravestone and places a tentative hand on the cold surface. He misses her so much- so impossibly much- and it's inflicting physical pain.

"Hi, Tracy," he croaks out as he bends down on the bleak, cold ground. "It's- it's been a month, and-" He stops, because he has to wipe at more tears that come. Thunder rumbles in the background, but he doesn't care; he keeps crying, keeps feeling her gravestone, wishing that she was in his arms right now.

"It's been a month," he starts again. "The kids don't know what's happening with me. I don't know, either. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't-" Here he shudders. "I can't do anything without you. I- I need you."

The only answer he recieves is the thunder that rumbles louder.

"I told you I loved you so many times," he whispers into the grass as he places his head on the ground, letting the tears drip off his face one by one. "But I never told you how much I need you to love me back, or how much I needed to love in general. It kept me going, all those times I thought I had love. A-and then when I did have it, I was set for life. But then...but then life took you away."

He looks up, as if staring at her grave hard enough will bring her back to him. Oh, he wants her back so bad. He wants to hold her in his arms, he wants to kiss her one more time, he wants to be the one buried in the cold, bleak ground, not her.

"They keep telling me it's going to be okay," he chokes out. "Well, maybe I don't want it to be okay. Maybe I want- maybe I need- more than that. Maybe I don't care that things are going to be fine without you, or that I'll heal from this. Maybe...maybe I just don't want anything if you're not here with me."

His hands curl into fists as he stares at her grave. His nails sting as they press into his palm, and his tears streak down his face and into his crying open mouth, but he doesn't notice. He's just staring at the gravestone, wishing that the only thing left of the woman he loves isn't a cold stone and her cold body in a box.

It isn't fair.

He thinks this over and over again as he squeezes his raw eyes closed, letting more tears slide down his cheeks. The thunder's rumbling less now, and dots of rain are beginning to appear over her gravestone. He places a cold, trembling hand on the wet marble and wishes desperately it isn't like this. That he'll wake up next to her, their kids running about, with this all a bad dream the next morning. But it is like this, whether or not he likes it.

"We're supposed to be together," he mutters to her gravestone, rubbing his hand on the cold surface that starts getting wetter as the rain starts to pour. "We promised each other that. For better or for worse. But you're not here for the worse."

He stares at the gravestone for a few seconds more before he finally stands. He's soaked to the bone and is cold, but none of that matters. What really matters is how he feels inside, and his heart is aching so bad and his mind is so numb he wants to collapse again. He wants to do something- anything- if it'll mean he won't have to face reality.

All of a sudden, all he's focused on is the gravestone itself. The gravestone is the one thing that doesn't remind him of Tracy, unlike the others things he's thought of, because it's rigid, cold, and bleak. It breaks his heart, knowing that this gravestone is all that's left for her, and it doesn't even embody her true spirit.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out his wedding ring. He had been planning to leave it behind instead of flowers, but then he realizes he can't do that. Tracy was already buried with hers on; he can't just take his off when she has her own on. He almost smiles, imagining her scolding him as she watches him from somewhere above.

He realizes then that he has to be strong for her, and for their kids, and for himself. He made a promise to her when she first told him she was sick that he wasn't going anywhere, and he intends to keep that promise, even if it's going to kill him, inside and out.

"I'm still here," he says quietly, and he slips on his wedding ring, staring down at it with steady, dry eyes. He gazes at her gravestone once more, swallows thickly, and adds, "I meant it, Tracy. I'm not going anywhere."

He turns and leaves her gravestone behind. His eyes are now dry and tears no longer fall, but he's still hurting inside. He wants, more than anything, to curl up in his bed and block out the world, but he can't. He has kids now, and he's made a promise with Tracy that he's never going to break.

So maybe he doesn't want an end or a beginning. Maybe he doesn't want to move on from Tracy. Maybe he doesn't want to be "okay". Maybe all he wants is her, and maybe that's all he'll ever want. Maybe he wants to keep remembering her, even if it'll hurt. Maybe he wants to cry to her gravestone and get soaked just to feel close to her. Maybe he puts himself through this hell- this denial, this hurt- just so he won't forget.

Maybe he does this so there is no end, and so there is no beginning, but just bittersweet in-betweens.


End file.
